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You can call me Thor.

I never thought much about how death would happen. I had some romantic thought about the whole escapade; I believed that when I died, I would have a flash of my whole life. I thought that being struck by lightning was practically impossible. I thought that I'd had better odds in the lottery, and, as it turned out, I should have played more numbers. I would have picked 2-3-2 for the daily three if I had the opportunity. Sadly, Zeus rained his fury upon me while I was walking, alone, to the car. What's even more ironic is that I have the nickname of the Norse lightning god. I don't even remember a cloud in the sky. My end made for a good story, didn't it? "Young Grey Wolf Struck by Lightning!" made for a good headline. But all I remember is the flash, and black; I didn't hear the thunder.

As good of a story as my end was, I should probably start at the beginning.

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December 31, 21:23:76 --Radiation stable, alpha decay nonexistent.

I feel my heart racing. The X I just ate is kicking in. Across the room, 2 meters, I see him. Target acquired. The party is really kicking in. I see the fray boys kicking in the new keg, apparently the Zeta Tau Omega girls hoes can really drink. Not that I care, I'm stalking the jock-y wolf, black, name arbitrary. He throws his pong ball in the center cup, I sip a chardonnay wine. I lick my tooth in my mouth, biding my time. The game finishes before too long; it seems as if the jock-y, nameless wolf is good at beer pong, I bet he likes shots. Three shots of tequila from my flask should do it if I mix the rest of my X in it. I don't need it. I'll need my wits about me. I can feel the blood pumping into my head. My head is spinning a little. My urge to dance must be overcome. He shakes hands with some guys and goes to smoke a cigarette. While I await his return I head to the bathroom, use it, wash my paws, and mix the X in the flask. He needs a shot of water before he goes upstairs with me, or his mouth will be dry, and no one likes a dry Blow job. I head to the kitchen and open the fridge, lucky there's a bottle that I can pocket. As I walk back to the living-room, he walks in the front door entering the living room. Pounce.

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"So. . . dude, you up for a game of quarters?" I put on my masculine voice. I don't give too much away. For my plan to work, I will need to pay close attention to his body language. He puts his hand on his hip for a minute, and it looks like a good sign.

"With you? I d-don' think that's such a good idear." He lowered his eyes at me, 'I don' much like playen with queers. . . ." his attitude shifted inward, he's not done talking this.

"Oh, are you scared? Do you think I could possibly beat you?" I could of course. But, I want him to drink. I could pinpoint the exact distance and drop and calculate the flight-path with little effort.

"Scared?!" he man chuckled as if I was not threat; it was cute, how very straight he is. "I'm never scared-a drinkin'." He smiled. His charm was nice, I could see how he tricked so many irrelevant females into intercourse.

"So you're in then?" I smiled, but only slightly to compliment his charm. He nodded and gestured to pour; I obliged, and I poured the three shots into a cup. "One triple shot good, winner take all?"

He again nodded. I stopped listening and started playing quarters, anything he said at this point was irrelevant as long he drank what was in the cup. As good as he was at beer pong, it shouldn't take him long to drop this quarter in a cup. He went, missed, and cursed. I went, missed, and cursed. He went, missed, and cursed. I went, missed, cursed, and then reassured him by saying five simple words: "Shit! You got this." He grabbed the quarter and sinks it, snatches the cup, and chugs. Ten minutes. Music. Fifteen minutes, he tells me his secret dreams about petting males, or something. I ask him if we can talk privately, he responds in the affirmative. 30 minutes the X is setting in good for both of us, his pupils dilate and I run my paw on his belly. He aggressively grabs me and throws me on bottom, then we're muzzle to muzzle.

I look into his eyes and grab him back and throw him on bottom, 45 minutes in, he passes out. I grab the camcorder from my backpack in the corner, and set it up. I record 10 minutes of me fucking the jock. My cock is hard and warm, I throw some water on his asshole, I spit on it, and shove my cock in him. If someone was to pull me out of him, they would have been crowned the The Honorable, The Merciful, The Lord King of England. When I'm done I cum on his face, take the silver sharpie out of my backpack and color his fur a bright metallic with the words, "I took it like a bitch." I then take out my wallet, and leave 20 dollars. I write on the bill:

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I only left you 20 because you ate the last of my X. I also came on your face, take a shower.

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I don't sign the bill, but I put a notch in his bedpost. He has a quite a few, but my notch was a big one. He'll notice it when he wakes up tomorrow afternoon. I pour the water on his crotch so he thinks he pissed himself, and walk out of the party. I don't talk to any of the other party guests, I get in my car and drive. I didn't drink much but a sip of chardonnay so he would see me drinking, so I'm attentive at the driving. Before I know it I'm upstairs in my meager apartment, sitting in the living-room, alone watching the ball drop in New York. I go to my room, paw myself off, and go to bed. It's time for a new year.

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January 23, 15:15:20 Radioactive Stable, Beta Decay Minimal

Lunch with Axel. He doesn't know I fucked his frat brother at the New Year's Party, description: mouse, punk, 6'11/3". Blue-grey. Informant. I met him here to discuss upcoming parties. I'm Horny. Looking for target. Don't care who, but not Axel. I need Axel as a pawn, for now.

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"So Axel, when's the next party, bro?" I keep my man voice for this cover.

"Oh! We're working on spring rush, If you liked that party you should come out and rush, we're partying all week!" He squeaked out excitedly.

I was unsure of how to react to this. I could do that, but what if Name Arbitrary remembered me? It was worth the gamble, if he remembered me he wouldn't tell anyone I raped his asshole on New Year's Eve, and if he didn't remember it, I may be able to travel that tight road again. I'm a very simple wolf. I know when the prey is ready and when to strike. I know when to hold my cards, and I know when to go all in, and I rather like being all in.

"Do you really think I have what it takes?" It's a stupid question. I, out of any boy from any other potential pledge class, would have what it took. But I also know that frat boys are prideful, and arrogant. They were given most things as children they wanted. Their parents have bought them cars, and trophies, beer, and friends. If you humble yourself before them, only slightly, they will fold and give you anything you want. They like being the life of the party, even if the party is life.

"Of course you do!" He pulled out a half sheet of cardstock, and he handed it to me.

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You Are Cordially Invited to Join the Brotherhood

Of

Theta Beta Alpha Delta Iota Chapter

Thorium "Thor" B. Decay

Please join us February 1st for pledge class Sigma Omicron initiation

Signed: Rian O. Beauregard , Prytanis

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I stared at the invitation. I wondered how many others have been printed. I look up to axel, who is staring quietly at me waiting for a response.

"Well?" He asked me while raising his eyebrow slightly, and grinning.

"Okay. I'll do it. I'll be there." I said to him.

"Then, I'll see you there."

I finish my classes for the day and head home. I light two candles, turn the lights off, and watch myself rape a frat boy on loop, pawing off, laughing, and getting excited for the sequel. This one will be better than the original.

I fall asleep and dream up a new plan.